I picked up a small flower arrangement for Fran, from one of the florists who’s been helping me with this Sunday’s sermon. Each of the times I’ve dropped into Anne’s shop this week, I’ve exegeted a different facet of her vocation back to her. It’s been quite profound for both of us. And I walk away even more convinced of the need for a good book on the spirituality of vocation. I asked her for a few floral maintenance tips. She pointed to one of the Frescias and ran her finger down the dark green, unopened blooms. “Every single one of these should bloom,” she said. “Just pick off the old blooms as they die and each of these should come into flower.”...